


An Unexpected High

by Angelwire



Series: From Artifice [6]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén
Genre: Gen, Possession, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-11-26 14:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20931569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelwire/pseuds/Angelwire
Summary: Let's hope you don't feel any lingering shame for this one.





	An Unexpected High

It slides in smoothly. A sharp turn of your wrist, and the room opens to you. As far as the front desk was concerned, you weren't a messy, thirty-year-old, overly tanned dyke, and you definitely weren't wearing your old, ratty, recently washed t-shirt with a barely preserved band name on the front. Nope, just another boring white man in whatever the hell the receptionist's mind found easiest to accept him wearing. Before, _back then_, you might have had to put more effort into making a complete picture for their viewing, but now, things were so much more _convenient._ Even with the added context of being a telepath, it still sometimes surprised you how pliable human perception was.

You had nothing much more than a single duffel bag to deposit - or rather, to hastily throw onto the room's bed. It was a risk in and of itself, of course. You knew you had to keep track of everything exactingly so as to leave no clues behind, nothing that could provide even the slightest trail for _them_ to follow, but you knew you were on top of it. And you really didn't want to be left without your mouthwash for the task ahead. Could you even afford going to a dentist?

A sigh. You know that leaving things haphazardly scattered would do you no good. After briefly scanning outside the window of your hotel room and confirming the target wasn't here yet, you hastily make preparations for the immediate future. Coming back here will be unpleasant enough without making yourself scramble for bottles in that sort of state.

Now it was just a matter of setting yourself up and waiting. You'd scoped this out well in advance, but unfortunately even such preparation wasn't enough to give you the confidence to simply lay down and feel out for the telltale sensations of Lady Argent's proximity. What if you missed her entirely? Falling backwards upon unconsciousness would be the least of your problems, so you resigned yourself to keep vigilance out the window.

Just needed to wait.

This was the right time, she'd be coming out soon. Just wait.

Wait.

_There!_

You don't even register the likely sensation of your head hitting the mattress unceremoniously. You're already gone.

Lady Argent has a very distinctive mind, a hostile, barbed fortress that stands out from the other people on the sidewalk. Perhaps your fears were unfounded; there should have been no way to miss this. Unfortunately, that unforgiving mental landscape is exactly what you need to aim for, and you barely manage to force yourself towards her without hesitating too much. Some part of your mind still shrinks back in anticipation of a pain that doesn't come. You knew it wouldn't, but the fear still persists until dispelled by stark reality. You're blessedly not here to immerse yourself in that nightmare. Still, it's hard to tell whether you like this situation much better.

Because now you need to use her.

Immediately, your will grips down as hard as you dare, and the light of consciousness flickers into black beneath you. No, _shit_, it already simmers, and- another squeeze, gentler, and it retreats. Argent isn't used to being forced into such feverish sleep. Of course she resists. You mentally curse the fumble for only a moment before you register something else entirely - light.

You open your... _her_ eyes. They open, and a sublime vista opens itself ahead of you, its sight alone so jarring that you need to catch yourself before Argent's mind can begin returning to the surface. Was _this_ what the world looked like through her eyes? You never in your wildest dreams imagined it looking this beautiful. You never imagined this many colors could all exist at once, either, but here they were.

"Excuse me," someone gently moves past you, shoulders brushing just a bit too close, too heavy, and it almost feels like being bruised though you can tell no damage was done. The hell? Were all of Argent's senses just amped up to the max like this? More importantly, the contact makes you realize how suddenly she'd come to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Can't just stand here forever.

As distracting as everything is now, you manage to get your bearings and begin enacting your plan. First was a little gift you'd left for Lady Argent's hands in a nearby alleyway. Secluded, covered by several layers of trash... Yes, here. This would be crucial. Now with the object firmly tucked by your side - a position which prompts a frankly disproportionate amount of rawness in your skin, considering Argent is supposed to be invincible - you continue on to the route you'd decided on a while ago, the fastest path to good ol' Ranger HQ. Your stride whilst doing so is, well, admittedly less graceful than you would have liked, or hoped. Maintaining this balancing act is too difficult, too precarious, and since you can't afford letting even the tiniest spark of consciousness go uncontested in her mind, you're stuck with the wrong muscle memories.

She doesn't even walk the right way. With her.

Hips.

Hm.

Is this normal for other people? Women? The way Argent's body is naturally inclined to walk feels only partially unfamiliar to you, given the concerted effort you'd put into giving yourself a feminine gait. No, maybe it's not so much unfamiliar as it is... easy? Less effort to fall into the right pattern? Continuing down the street, you decide to experiment a little, and as wrong as it feels after all the work done to unlearn it, you do manage to force yourself back into walking like you used to. How much of this is Argent and how much of this is just you? Maybe you're fucked up in more ways than one, or a hundred. What an unpleasant thought.

And that said nothing about how it felt to put one leg before the other, to _move_, to simply walk with the freedom that comes with not having a certain something constantly reminding you of its presence down there. At first you tried to ignore the pleasant void. At first. But you can't take things back once you think them. Notice them. Acknowledge them, _feel_ them. Enjoy. _Exult._ You'd always wondered what it'd feel like to have that surgery, even if it was something you figured you could live without... though, how true that sentiment still was remained to be seen. You'd wondered, and now in a certain sense you knew.

Lady Argent's body was not yours, obviously. You'd always be different. Inferior. Fucked up with no recourse and no sympathy from anyone.

But you _knew_ now how nice it was.

More importantly, you were coming up on their headquarters. Your mind should have been more in the game, thinking back to all those hours of meticulous planning, but it was... yes, that was what people called euphoria, right? That's what you were experiencing. Surprising. And in spite of your usual tendency towards slipping into negative thoughts about yourself, it somehow feels just distant enough from behind Argent's skin that you can truly just enjoy yourself for once. Just the simple act of walking around as someone else, without the reminders of your own unfortunate history constantly pinging at the edges of your consciousness, felt so god damn _good_.

Now it was just a matter of not screwing this heist up.

**Author's Note:**

> is this sort of thing creepy? i thought it'd make sense to spend a moment more examining how a particularly dysphoric trans woman would feel suddenly possessing a cis woman's body, since the original didnt really touch on that at all (at least not until the puppet stuff)


End file.
